Hyacinth (Tamlin's Healing Arc)

Chapter Forty One

"Excuse me, my Lady," Kenai paused at the doorway of the Great Hall just as they were walking toward the table.

Cin swung around. "Yes, Kenai? I hope you don't bring more news of intruders."

"No, my Lady. But your guest is here." His hazel eyes gleamed with excitement. He had sent a young man from Clematis to hand-deliver Cin's invitation to her guest.

A smile spread across her face, and she gave Bron's arm a pat. "You go ahead, I'll join you shortly."

"Are you sure?" He raised an eyebrow, his eyes darting between Kenai and his sister.

"Yes," she replied quickly, unlinking their arms. "Oh, and don't sit next to the High Lord. On either side of him." Cin gave him a pointed stare, indicating Tamlin, who sat at the head of the table with Hart on his right and an empty seat on his left, next to Abina.

Bron rolled his eyes and headed to the table, while Cin followed Kenai into the hallway. Among the soft spring hues, the first thing that caught her eye was the unbound red-gold orange hair of her guest as he surveyed the foyer, which no doubt looked vastly different since the last time he had seen it.

Upon hearing Cin's approaching steps, he turned and smiled. "I hope I'm not too late."

Trying not to stare at his gold eye, she smiled back. "Never too late for you, Lord Lucien."

"I was surprised to receive your letter... Cin, is it?" he said. "The Manor looks different. A lot bigger and... not broken."

"Cin," she nodded, confirming her name. "And I hope the Mansion looks better. I spent a lot of time fixing it up. Well, we did. Tamlin did the heavy lifting."

Cin walked right up to Lucien. Despite the fragrant flowers adorning the foyer, the scents of cinnamon and fire smoke seemed to circle him. He was dressed in a plain brown tunic with black pants and boots, yet he still managed to exude a regal air.

Cin gestured toward the Great Hall. "Shall we?"

"Is he expecting me?" He clasped his hands against his lower back as he walked beside her.

"No. I didn't want to get his hopes up. I didn't know if you'd come," Cin admitted. Tamlin had experienced enough disappointments.

"Are you with him, then?" Lucien tilted his head as they approached the Great Hall.

"I'll let him tell you," Cin replied, turning them into the Hall. Abina noticed them first, sitting and nodding along to something Hart had said to Tamlin. Lucien's breath caught softly at the sight of his oldest friend—Tamlin, laughing, talking, with short hair and dressed not in a warrior's usual attire but as a High Lord.

The chatter gradually came to a halt as Cin and Lucien approached the table, close enough to hear that the conversation had been mostly about the previous cook's meals compared to Everly's. No one dared to touch Cin's brilliant red and gold birthday cake.

Noticing the shift in tone and the silence that settled around the table, Tamlin glanced up and finally, finally saw Lucien. The silence felt palpable and heavy. Cin observed the array of emotions on Tamlin's face: concern, regret, anxiety, and then, finally, a face-splitting grin.

Tamlin pushed himself out of his chair, and the two friends closed the distance between them, colliding like two boulders. The weight of their reunion became the most significant presence in the room as they laughed, embraced, and spoke hurriedly over each other.

"You cut your hair!"

"You've gained weight!"

"Me? You have gained weight! What happened to the beanstalk skulking around what I thought was still a run-down Manor?!"

Cin strode around the table and sat down beside Abina, with Bron on her other side. Bron watched Tamlin and Lucien as they laughed, snorted, and talked over each other. A smile appeared on Bron's face, one that Cin hadn't seen in years.

"You did this?" Abina asked softly, sliding a glass of sparkling strawberry water in front of Cin.

"Yeah, I thought it was time Lord Lucien saw how well his old friend was doing."

"Thank you," Bron said over Abina's shoulder. Tears glistened in his eyes, and Cin understood what he was trying to convey with that single expression of gratitude—for the Mansion, for the reunion, for Tamlin, for the hope of Spring's High Lord, for bringing hope back to a court that had long been in ruin. "I should have trusted you."

"Don't worry. Nobody's perfect." She winked at him just as Tamlin told Lucien to sit down.

The two men sat beside each other, and Tamlin was the first to speak, placing a gentle hand on Cin's arm. "Lucien, this is the lovely Lady Cin."

"We met in the foyer," Lucien nodded, offering a respectful bow of his head, acknowledging the title Tamlin had used.

"Right, sorry," Tamlin chuckled, his words still infused with humor.

"Did your hair stylist cut into your memory?" Lucien laughed, knowing that their easy banter would fade once the initial reunion glow wore off. They both had their own demons to face.

"That was me, Lord Lucien, and I take offense," Cin pretended to be offended.

"Just Lucien, right, Tam?" Lucien grinned at Tamlin, hinting at a story behind the removal of titles. Tamlin's answering grin revealed their shared history of playful nonsense.

"Tam?" Cin tilted her head, her eyes shifting between the two of them. "Were two syllables too much of a hassle?"

"You're one to talk, Hyacinth," Bron scoffed.

Abina burst into laughter. "Your full name is Hyacinth? I thought Cin was your name."

"My mother loved the symbolism, okay? But I don't," Cin replied through gritted teeth.

"Really? What does it mean?" Lucien's gaze fixed on the Lady of Spring.

Cin offered him a tight-lipped smile before saying, "Peace, commitment, and a wish to heal."

A silence enveloped the table as the weight of those words settled in. Then Lucien raised his glass filled with wine. "A wish to heal."

Cin observed as the glasses around the table were raised in unison, nodding, and everyone echoed Lucien's toast. "A wish to heal!"